Perhaps because she grew up in a pharmacy with strong interests, Emma was particularly sensitive to smell, so she could distinguish scents from one another.  She was sniffing around, when she discovered a small patch of dark green grass in the garden. Laute tilted his head as he curiously stared at the grass Emma had her attention on.

“What is it? Is this an herb, too? It looks quite normal though,” he said.

“From the looks of it, it is an herb,” Emma agreed. “but I have to examine it more to see if it really is an herb or not.”

Emma kneeled down, grabbed the sparsely-grown, serrated leaf, and pulled it out. It was full of soil, but when the clear dark red root appeared Emma put her nose closer, frowning after smelling it.

“It’s matgal. In other words, it’s called vole urine grass,” she said.

“What a weird name,” Laute commented, with disgust on his face, “and filthy one, too!”

“It’s named like that because it grows like a small bush in remote places.”

“Still, it has the word urine in the name…”

“That’s because of the smell.”

Emma placed her nose close to the root and took another long sniff. She recognized the familiarity of the smell from the cabin last time. It was the water bottle on the shelf; the scent that had faintly come from the drinking water. At that time, she’d thought that it smelled similar to matgal, but the reason why she wasn’t able to fully identify it, was because of the lingering danger and discomfort.

“By the way, this matgal is a bit different from regular vole urine grass,” Emma said.

Laute tilted his head again. “Different how?” he asked.

“The smell is weird for its medicinal properties. The roots look different as well….” Emma remembered that Laute was not a professional in herbs, she began to explain in an easy way to understand.

“Roots?”

“Yes. If you look below the stem here -” she gestured to the root, “The color looks different, right?”

Regular matgals had calming effects that help alleviate hyperactivity and relieve anxiety and tension, but red martgals, such as the one she was holding, were different.

“It’s red,” Laute said.

Emma nodded. “Normal matgals have white roots. It may look dark because of the dirt stuck to it, but wash it off with water and you’ll see the white roots. But this one will remain red even if you rinse it with water.”

Matgal and red matgal looked exactly the same on the surface, but their properties were distinguished by the color of the root. Red matgals have sharp, springing roots that look like devil horns, so it earned the nickname ‘Devil’s Present’. The herb caused excessive anger and excitement.

It was a sinister secret that red matgals were used to increase the fighting spirit of animals and induce excitement in bullfighting and dogfighting.  And it worked no differently even on people. It was also a necessary medicine to win on the battlefield and arena of times of war. But the side effects were immense. It was also called a poisonous weed that erased a person’s future because it significantly decreased the vitality in living things.

“Taking it once won’t kill you,” she said. “Although it’s a bit poisonous, it’s only dangerous if you eat it for a long period of time. Experts say that the users die from exhaustion, like a dry, old tree… but I wonder why such poisonous plants are growing here.”

Laute blanched. “Is it used for other things than that ghastly purpose?” he said.

“No. That’s why it’s even weirder. A trained pharmacist would have no reason to grow it here…”

Laute was thinking meticulously, when he opened his eyes as if something had come to mind. “By any chance, do werewolves like it? Since they’re demons, they might get energized from eating herbs.”

Emma sternly shook her head no. “It’s a plausible assumption, but as far as I know, it has nothing to do with werewolves. I must consult with Layna to see how this will pan out.”

The doubt she had had all along popped up in her head like a sharp thorn. ‘If that’s the reason for her growing red matgal…’ She squeezed the red matgal root in her hand, and hastily headed for the pharmacy with a bewildered, alarmed Laute.

“Miss Layna!”

Emma urgently slammed the door open without even bothering to knock. There was already a customer inside.

“Who are you?”

The eyes of the skinny old man sitting opposite of Layna at the table glinted sharply. His small physique radiated intelligence, but his thin lips and murky eyes were full of insidious energy. He was a man like Collin; one she did not want to get close to.

“Oh!”

Emma blinked with bewilderment as she frantically hid her hands behind her. Then, Laute, standing behind her, skillfully took the red matgal and hid it in his pocket.

“My apologies. I disturbed you while you were with a customer. I will come back later,” Emma hastily said.

“N-not at all!”

As soon as Emma bowed her head and tried to close the door and leave, the man, who’d briefly stopped what he was doing with Layna, stood up and introduced himself as Monte.